Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 95013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
She stopped to stare me down again, but she seemed to hate me more.
“I don’t expect us to be friends by any means, but I don’t want it to be this tense either. Constantine said you’re a part of his family, so I’d like it if we could, you know, be in the same room together. Say hello. Make small talk—”
“I have no desire to share a single sentence with you.”
Damn. All right, then. “So you’d rather just stare me down like I murdered your whole family every time we’re in a room together?” I knew I should keep my composure and be the bigger person here, but I was sick of this mean-girl shit. “Let’s remember I’m not the one who kissed his twin and then lied about it. That relationship ended because of you—not because of me.”
Her eyes widened like she couldn’t believe I just said that.
I couldn’t believe I said it either.
“I’m just some girl Constantine met nine years later. A girl who doesn’t want any conflict or drama. A girl who wants everyone to get along. And you’re marking me as your enemy when I didn’t do anything to deserve it. So why don’t we give this another try? Hello.”
She was either still in shock at what I said or distracted by her rage, because she didn’t speak for a second or two. “I was supposed to spend the last nine years with that man. Supposed to have children with that man. And you think I can say hello to the woman who has my soulmate?”
I could be really petty and tell her that Constantine referred to me as his soulmate, but that felt so cruel. “If Constantine were any other man, I would question why you’re still hung up on him, but I totally get it. I get why this is hard for you, and believe it or not, I feel for you. Because if our situations were reversed, I’m sure I’d feel the same way—”
“I don’t need your pity, bitch.” She marched off to the back to look for Beatrice, cutting me down like I’d personally wronged her.
I almost didn’t hold my tongue. Almost went after her and gave her a piece of my mind. But I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Constantine was the man I would spend my life with, and my stomach might not look any different, but the life we’d made together was growing deep inside and had changed us both irrevocably. I had his present and she had his memory. I had his heart and she had his regret. She wasn’t worth my time, so I got back to work and tried to forget the conversation had even happened.
I took a taxi home and found Constantine playing with Medusa. She couldn’t chase down tennis balls anymore, but she could stand still while Constantine bounced a ball off the ground and she caught it in her mouth. He held a handful of green tennis balls and threw them one at a time, and she’d snatch them in her jaw, squeak it once, and then drop it to catch the next one.
When Constantine finished the balls in his hand, he rubbed her on the head. “Attagirl.” He stood up and looked at me, and as always, his eyes lit up like I was his whole world and the universe that surrounded it. He walked over to me and pulled me close, kissed me like he’d missed me all day.
I couldn’t believe I got to come home to this every day. And I got to do it for the rest of my life.
“How was work?”
The confrontation with Isabella flashed across my mind, but I didn’t want to ruin our moment together. I decided to keep it to myself. “It was good. Just a bunch of arancini and pizza.”
“I know.” He leaned in and kissed me on the temple. “I can smell it in your hair.” When he pulled away, he had a smirk on his lips. “A smell that’s permanently tattooed inside my nose at this point.”
“And you think our new restaurant will smell any different?”
“We won’t be the ones cooking, so who knows what it’ll smell like.”
Medusa came over to me in her walker and let me give her a rubdown. “I love how well you’re doing, honey.” In the last month, she’d progressed so much. Soon, she’d be able to take off her cast and do more physical activity. I was excited to see her run around the terrace on her own, to go on hikes to Mount Etna with Constantine, to be a dog again.
We headed back inside the house. “Want to go out or stay in?” he asked.
“I could go for some Roman pizza, but I know we won’t be able to find any of that.”